


From Paris to Chicago

by bigboobedcanuck



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Male Friendship, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:43:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigboobedcanuck/pseuds/bigboobedcanuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lew and Dick take the long way around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Paris to Chicago

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noxnoctisanima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxnoctisanima/gifts).



> Written for noxnoctisanima's prompt for Fic for Victory 2013 on LJ: Dick/Nix - First time, terrified of the other not wanting what they do.

It’s easy enough to talk his way into a lift to Paris, even if it means squeezing into the backseat of a jeep between a couple of first lieutenants who discuss nothing but women and home, two things Lew has absolutely no interest in. He almost offers the lieutenant colonel in the front his flask of Vat to switch seats, but sips regularly from it instead, churlishly refusing to share. 

The ever-present knot in his gut tightens as they pass the city limits. It’s years since he’s been to Paris, and this time he looks at it with new eyes, imagining what Dick was thinking as he journeyed along the twisting, bustling streets just hours earlier.

It’s past midnight by the time he arrives at the hotel, and it’s easy enough to get Dick’s room number from the clerk. Lew takes the stairs, stopping halfway up to drain his flask and fish out a half-finished bottle of cheap rye from his canvas bag. It’s swill, but the familiar knot is wedged against his ribcage now, and this is the only thing that will relieve the pressure, even if it’s only for a minute or two.

Lew tells himself for the hundredth time to turn around and forget this. Instead he takes another swig. Rubbing at the phantom scar on his forehead where the bullet scorched his skin, he climbs onward.

Dick doesn’t answer the knock right away, and Lew’s pounding heart is practically in his throat when he hears Dick’s familiar voice. “Who is it? Uh… _qui est_?”

Lew’s tempted to answer in French as a joke, but he’s lucky to get any words out at all. “It’s me.”

A moment later the door swings open. “Nix?” Dick’s dripping wet, a white towel slung low on his lean hips. “What are you doing here?” A smile brightens his face.

Lew grips the doorframe and forces himself to smile and perform. “Too much fog in England, just for a change of pace. No planes in for at least a day. Thought I’d make sure you didn’t get up to too much trouble.” A belated, horrible thought roils his stomach. “You don’t have company, do you?”

Dick chuckles and steps back, ushering Lew in. “No, I leave that to you and the men. Your special lady in Aldbourne will be disappointed you weren’t able to make it.”

Lew shrugs and smiles and tries not to stare at the water glistening on Dick’s pale skin. He’s clenched his hands, and he shoves them in his pockets. The lights are off, but the full moon illuminates every freckle, and Lew turns to the window as Dick tugs on his undershirt and trousers. He’s seen Dick naked in the barracks plenty of times, but the glimpse of Dick’s firm backside from the corner of Lew’s eye still makes his throat go dry.

When Dick reaches for the lamp, Lew stops him. “C’mere. I want to show you something.” He points to a spot near the horizon. “The roof is all glass. It’s the Grand Palais. They built it for the world expo in nineteen hundred. Nazis were displaying their propaganda there. Of course the bastards half destroyed the place on their way out.”

“Must have been beautiful before.” 

“Yeah. Wish I could show you the way it used to be.”

They drift away from the window, and Dick doesn’t turn on the light after all. He sits on the end of the bed as Lew takes the wooden chair a few feet away. Dick watches him quietly, his eyes as kind as ever.

“What’s up, Lew?”

He takes another drink. “What do you mean?”

“Seems like you have something on your mind.” 

Of course he does, but now that he’s actually here in Dick’s hotel room, what had seemed like an absolute imperative earlier — words he finally had to say or risk choking on them — now seems foolhardy. He takes another swig. “It’s nothing. I should let you get some sleep.”

“What is it?”

Lew’s leg jiggles restlessly. “You remember when I almost bought it on the road out of Nuenen?” 

A frown creases Dick’s face. “Of course.” 

“I keep thinking….” He takes another gulp.

“What? Nix, what’s the matter?” Dick peers at him patiently. 

“If I died now…”

“You’re not going to die.” Dick says it like it’s one of his commands — not forcefully, but with absolute conviction. 

“But if I did. I want someone to know me. No, not just _someone_. _You._ I want you to know me.”

Shoulders relaxing, Dick smiles. “I do know you. Lew, you’re my best friend. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m not the man you think I am.” 

“What I think is that you’ve had too much to drink. Come on, lie down and get some rest.” He starts to stand.

“No!” Lew’s voice echoes off the wooden floor. “Please, just listen.” The knot in his chest has expanded ferociously, the pressure threatening to splinter his ribcage. 

Dick sits back down, smile vanished. “Okay.” 

He’s planned this speech a thousand times in his mind, but in the end he blurts out, “One night at Toccoa, when we all sat around and talked about women? I said my first time was with a girl who went to the boarding school down the street from mine.”

“Yeah. Monica Dunfield.” 

Lew blinks. “You remember her name?”

Dick shrugs and glances away with a little laugh. “I wasn’t drunk like the rest of you.” 

“Well, it wasn’t Monica. His name was Stephen Dunfield. Her brother.”

Dick goes very still. “What?”

“I was fourteen. So was he; maybe fifteen. Our parents summered together in the Hamptons. One night we went exploring out on the beach. In the dunes.” The gritty sand had gotten into every crevice of his flesh, and he’d never liked going to the beach with Kathy because it made him think of what he couldn’t have. _Stephen’s hot breath on his neck, hard cock pushing into him. The pain fading away to so much more pleasure than Lew’s own hand could give._ “Those two weeks were like heaven. I finally knew what it was to be alive.”

After a moment, Dick manages to speak. “You were young.”

“I was. But I knew.”

Dick processes this silently, expression stoic. Finally, he asks, “What are you saying?”

“I’m queer, Dick. There’s no girl in Aldbourne.” He drinks and swipes a hand across his mouth. “ _Her_ name’s Bill. He’s in the home guard because he has diabetes. Maybe epilepsy. I can’t remember.” 

Shaking his head again, Dick says, “But…your wife.” 

Lew opens his hands wide. “A pretty prop for my grand performance. I’m a respectable man. At least on the outside. A Nixon, of the New Jersey Nixons. A wife is a prerequisite.” He runs his hand through his hair roughly. “Look, I tried with her. I did. Even though I knew I wasn’t like other men. With women it’s all forced. Awkward. With men it comes naturally. I can’t really explain it.” 

Still sitting on the bed, Dick is silent, taking this all in.

Lew swallows thickly. “I know you don’t understand. But I want you to know me. The real me.”

Dick opens and closes his mouth, then shakes his head. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’re still my friend.” His heart thumps painfully, the knot consuming him, sweat breaking out on his forehead as Dick simply stares at him, the seconds ticking by. The wooden chair scrapes over the floor as Lew staggers to his feet. “I understand if you can’t. I don’t blame you.” 

“Nix.” Dick’s voice is calm as usual as he stands. “Of course I’m still your friend.”

“You are?” 

He smiles softly, but there’s a sadness there. “Yeah.”

“I know it’s wrong, Dick. I know I should be stronger. Better.” 

Dick moves as if to put his hand on Lew’s shoulder, just as he has countless times. But this time his hand falls back to his side awkwardly. Lew tries not to wince at the twist of hurt in his gut. 

“Has there…have you…with anyone else in the service?”

“No, no. Never.” It’s the truth, but he doesn’t tell Dick that it’s not because of his self-control or sense of responsibility. He doesn’t tell Dick that he’s wanted him since the day they met, and loved him since Toccoa, and that any of the other soldiers or officers would only remind him of the man he can never have.

“Come on, get some rest.” Dick nods towards the bed.

“What about you? I can’t take your bed.” 

“I’m not tired. Go on, Nix. Sleep.” He smiles. “I’ll kick you out in an hour.”

Lew does as he’s told and yanks off his boots before curling under the covers. He doesn’t imagine he’ll be able to sleep, but he feels a strange sense of relief, the knot smaller than it’s been in a long, long time. As he drifts away, it’s like it’s barely there at all, just a shadow. 

He wakes to the sun streaming in and Dick dressed and ready for the day, picking up the spare blanket from the floor where he slept. 

“Ready for some breakfast?” Dick asks, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He folds the blanket into a neat square.

Lew nods and shuffles to the bathroom to wash up, hating that he burdened Dick with his shameful secret. Staring at his sorry reflection, he reminds himself how lucky he is to have Dick as a friend, even if he’ll never be anything more. When he’s shaved and clean and neatly put back together, he walks out with a big smile on his face. 

He tells Dick he knows a great little place for croissants, and they both pretend he never said a word. 

*

Lew counts himself lucky that Dick treats him the same way he always has. Sometimes he thinks his confession in Paris only happened in his mind, but when he laughs at a ribald joke with the men or makes a comment about a woman, there’s a fleeting tension in Dick’s expression that no one else would notice. 

But Lew has his role to play, and he does it well.

The knot is still there, but not nearly as suffocating. He’s content in the knowledge that he has one true friend in the world, even if the longing for him is a constant ache burrowed deep into his bones. 

Somehow they make it through the war and all the way back to Nixon, New Jersey. Part of Lew knows he’s only prolonging the inevitable when he asks, stomach churning, if Dick will come back and work with him. He knows Dick will end up on a farm one day with a wife and children, and Lew will be nothing more than an old war buddy he sees at reunions. 

But Dick says yes, and Lew will take what he can get.

They settle into their jobs and homes, Dick living in a small, simple apartment. It’s a few miles from Lew’s sprawling, empty house with two many bedrooms collecting dust to be swept away each week by the housekeeper. 

They find a new normalcy. Dick starts dating a nice young lady named Ethel, and Lew takes out one named Sally regularly enough to avoid any questions. Sally is agreeable and pretty, and he pretends she’s everything he needs in another wife, even though he’ll never marry again. He’s done his duty and produced an heir, and he’ll let Sally down gently before things get too serious. She’s a nice girl and deserves better than he could ever give.

Every couple of weeks, he drives over to Metuchen, or sometimes Somerville, haunting the alleys or parks. Never the same man twice. No names. Lots of whiskey.

At his father’s Christmas party, he shakes hands with Stephen Dunfield, feeling nothing more than a faint, pleasant nostalgia. When he introduces him to Dick, he’s amazed no one else seems to pick up on the sudden stiffening of Dick’s spine. But if there’s one thing Herbert Sobel taught them, it’s how to hide contempt, and Dick nods his head and makes all the right noises. 

Dick leaves the party ten minutes later, hurriedly telling Lew he’s not feeling well, unable to meet his eyes. Lew watches him go, shame burning his skin as he beckons a waiter for another drink. 

*

It’s May when Dick brings up Chicago. They’re eating lunch together on a picnic table outside the plant, birds chirping. The workers have already had their break, and it’s peaceful outside in the sunshine as Dick finishes chewing his sandwich. “You remember that night before D-Day? When everything was postponed?”

Lew takes a swig of soda, wishing it was whiskey. “Sure.”

“You said you’d take me to Chicago.”

He thinks of Dick’s face turned up to the sky, wondering if they were going to die the next day. _Yeah…we’ll see._ “Did I? Well, then, we should go.”

“Okay.” Dick bites into his shiny apple.

Lew’s stomach flutters despite himself. “How about next weekend? I’ll set it all up.” 

“Okay,” Dick repeats. 

“Great.” Lew’s pulse races, and he has to work at his casual tone, clearing his throat. “Oh, Sally wants you and Ethel to come out for dinner and bridge on Thursday.”

Dick doesn’t answer for a long moment. “How are things? With Sally?”

“Fine.” Lew smiles and shrugs. “She’s a great girl. How about Ethel?”

“Yeah. Great girl.” 

They nod and smile, and finish their lunch in silence as the sun disappears behind a patch of clouds.

*

The train arrives late in Chicago, but Dick doesn’t seem to mind. He peers attentively from the taxi window as they make their way to the Continental Hotel and Town Club, and Lew keeps up a running commentary about the buildings they pass. Dick nods and murmurs every so often. 

Their rooms are across from each other and they meet in the middle. Lew’s heart skips a beat at the sight of Dick all decked out in what has to be a new navy blue suit that’s tailored perfectly over his lean body. Dick glances down at himself, tugging on his sleeve. “Do I look okay?”

Lew affects a serious tone. “Very respectable, Major Winters.” 

Dick chuckles as they walk to the elevator. “I forgot the oak leaves.” Many of the men still wear their uniforms when they go out, but Lew thinks he spent enough years in uniform, and he knows Dick agrees. For the last year of war all they wanted was to be civilians again.

They go to Gene and Georgetti and feast on perfectly cooked steak. Somehow even the potatoes taste better, and they talk and laugh about nothing in particular. The red wine goes down like water, but Lew limits himself to one bottle. He’s not sure when he last felt this recklessly happy.

Dick’s never been to the theatre before, and sits rapt as the play unfolds, laughing in all the right places as Viola, Olivia and the Duke engage in their game of mistaken identities. Lew tells him they’ll go to Broadway next time, and Dick smiles and says okay. Two men alone together at the theatre garners a few odd looks, but Lew ignores them and Dick doesn’t seem to notice. 

They stroll back along Michigan Avenue, passing dark storefronts and breathing in the sweet, spring air. Dick points up. “Is that our hotel?”

“Yep.”

“What’s that thing on the top? Sort of looks like…an onion?”

“Oh, that’s an interesting story. It was supposed to be part of a dock for zeppelins.”

Dick smiles ruefully. “Ah.”

“Yeah, after the Hindenburg they figured maybe a big ball of fire on top of the hotel wasn’t such a swell idea after all.”

Dick chuckles and they walk on, and Lew wants to bottle this night and drink from it a little bit every day. It’s almost midnight by the time they step off the elevator, but Dick lingers by their doors. “What’s the view like from your side?”

Lew had made sure Dick’s windows faced the lake. “Just the city, but it’s nice.” He pauses. “You want to take a look?”

Dick shrugs. “Sure.” 

Inside, Lew doesn’t turn on the lamp so they can see out properly. The moon is bright in the sky, suffusing the room with cool light. They stand a few inches apart at the window, gazing out at the sprawl of buildings, illuminated as far as the eye can see. 

“It’s beautiful in its own way,” Dick says. A few moments later he adds, “I’m glad we’re here.”

“Hey, I told you I’d bring you to Chicago. A place for civilized men.”

Smiling, Dick turns away from the window. But instead of saying goodnight, he sits on the side of the bed. Lew’s throat is suddenly dry. “I’d offer you a drink, but…do you want some water?”

“Sure.” 

The ice bucket has been filled, and Lew plops a few cubes into a glass before filling it from a decanter. He hands it to Dick and their fingers brush for a moment. There’s an armchair, but it’s in the far corner by the door, so Lew sits down next to Dick on the bed, not sure what else to do.

“You’re not having anything?” Dick asks.

“Nah, I’m fine.” Actually some whiskey is just what he needs, but Lew stays put, concentrating on not jiggling his leg. He flattens his hands on his thighs. “What time do you want to meet for breakfast? The Art Institute doesn’t open until after ten, but I know you’ll be up with the roosters. Did you have roosters? Growing up?”

Dick smiles. “Yeah. We did. It’s like I can still hear them every morning.”

“Well, just come and drag me out of bed when you feel like it.”

“Okay.”

They stare at each other in the moonlight, and Lew’s palms itch. “You wanna play cards or something?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” His stomach tightens. There’s something in Dick’s expression. Something’s happening, and Lew doesn’t understand. Dick’s looking at him like he always does—and never has. 

“You remember that night in Paris?”

Lew’s heart thumps. He can only nod.

“The way you feel about men…is it only…physical?”

He swallows hard. “No.”

“So you’d be with a man if you could? For…more?”

“Yeah.” Lew’s fingers dig into his thighs. “I would.”

“Have you ever felt that way about anyone?” Something flickers across Dick’s face then, a terror that Lew has never seen before, not even in the darkest days of the war.

Lew jumps to his feet because he can’t stand seeing that. _What is happening?_

He tugs at his collar, the old knot returned and lodged in his throat. “Maybe I’ll have that drink after all.” He makes it to the side table, his hands shaking as he opens the whiskey and sloshes it into a glass. Sweat gathers on his forehead, and he swipes at it with his arm, not caring about staining his suit. 

Dick’s voice wavers behind him, but only for a moment. “Do you want to be with me, Nix?”

Slamming the whiskey back, he grips the table. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need to know.” 

“Why?” Lew paces to the window, staring past his desperate reflection, looking anywhere but at Dick. “Please stop.” _You’re going to ruin everything._ They were able to pretend that everything was the same after Paris, but if Lew tells Dick the truth about his feelings — if he says it out loud — it will all be over. 

“That night in Paris, when you talked about him. About _Stephen_. You said it felt natural. You said it was heaven.”

“I was drunk.” He tries to laugh. “I say a lot of things.”

“I’ve never felt that.”

“I know. You’re not a queer like me, Dick. You’re better than that.”

“No, I mean I’ve never felt like that with anyone. Ethel’s nice. She’s from a good family. She’s pleasant and kind, and she would make a good wife. But I don’t feel anything for her. Not…down deep. It’s all on the surface.”

For a moment, Lew can’t breathe. Then he shrugs, staring out at the city and forcing down the hope that blooms warmly in his chest. “So you haven’t met the right girl yet. You will.”

“You remember jump school?”

Lew blinks at the change in topic. “Yeah.”

“How they taught us to always keep our eyes on the horizon when we stood in the doorway?”

“Never look down.” Lew keeps his eyes on the skyline now, lights stretching out into the night.

He can hear Dick blow out a long breath. “That’s what I did. Eyes fixed on the horizon. I carried DeEtta’s picture with me, wrote her a hundred letters. We both knew before the war ended that we’d never be more than friends. When I got back in November I thought maybe…maybe I wrong. I spent a few days with her and her girlfriends in Washington, showing them around. It was nice. DeEtta was always a good friend. But I haven’t heard from her since.”

“But Ethel, you’re keen on her. Aren’t you?” 

Dick’s voice is suddenly closer, and he’s standing behind Lew, his ghostly reflection in the window. “When I think of who it is I want to spend the rest of my life with, Ethel doesn’t come to mind. When we got home, I thought everything would fall into place.”

“It will. Give it time.” Lew thinks he might vomit.

“Nothing seems real. Just you.”

Lew rests his forehead against the glass. “Stop.”

“Why? Don’t you…I thought…” He steps back. 

Lew can’t take the uncertainty in Dick’s voice, that tremor of hurt and fear. Dick’s eyes are wide when Lew turns to face him. Dick shakes his head. “I thought that you…” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Lew keeps his tone gentle. “You can’t.” _It’s impossible._

Steadily, Dick meets his gaze and squares his shoulders. “I looked down, Nix.”

Lew’s pulse thrums, blood rushing in his ears. “It’ll ruin everything.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you see? You’ll never….” He exhales sharply.

“What?” Dick stands stock still, waiting.

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world to me, but the _world_ doesn’t think so. It’s a sin. And one thing you could never be is a sinner.”

“Maybe I’m not as good as you think I am.” 

The urge to push Dick back onto the bed and taste and touch him is overpowering. The possibility that Dick might actually… _no. He can’t. He doesn’t know what he’s saying._ Lew has never been more afraid in his life, and he was in Bastogne. He forces out a laugh. “Limericks make you blush.”

Dick’s jaw clenches. “That doesn’t mean I’m not a man. That I don’t…”

“You can’t even say it.”

With a few determined steps, Dick backs Lew against the window, only a few inches separating them. “I have desires. I….” He swallows hard. “When I touched myself before, I’d keep my mind blank. But the last few months I think of you.” In the moonlight, Lew can see the blush spread to the tips of Dick’s ears.

Lew can only groan, desire flaring in his belly, warring with the fear. _Can Dick really want this?_ “You’ll regret this. Everything will change.” 

Dick reaches for Lew’s cock, grasping him determinedly. He leans in, breath warm at Lew’s ear. “Do you think of me?” 

Lew’s not strong enough, and even if he loses his best friend in the morning, he’ll take tonight. He hauls Dick against him, kissing him fiercely. Their tongues meet, and they grapple with each other, tugging on clothing, rubbing against each other, Dick’s hand pinned between them.

They stumble to the bed, and Lew straddles Dick and pops the buttons on Dick’s new shirt, the cufflinks flying as he yanks the sleeves. In the moonlight, Dick’s dog tags gleam, and Lew runs his fingertips over the flesh-warmed metal. “You too?” 

He takes his own shirt off to reveal the dog tags still around his neck. As much as they wanted to be civilians again, it seems neither can let go completely. Hooking a finger beneath the chain, Lew takes off his tags and reaches for Dick’s. Dick lifts his head and watches as Lew drops them in a knotted pile on the nightstand. 

Lew’s dreamed of his moment for so long that he doesn’t quite know what to do. He runs his hands over Dick’s bare chest, fingers brushing the fair hair. Dick waits, breathing shallowly, his semi-hard cock nudging Lew’s ass through their trousers. Leaning over, Lew swipes his tongue over one of Dick’s nipples. Dick takes a sharp breath, shifting as Lew licks and sucks one nipple and then the other.

They’re both fully hard now, and Lew grinds his hips down before going to work on Dick’s belt and trousers. Lew’s heart pounds, excitement and fear running through him like a freight train as he drinks in his friend naked before him. Before Dick can change his mind, Lew shimmies down and takes him into his mouth.

In the years he’s known Richard Winters, Lew’s never heard him cry out like he does as Lew’s mouth envelopes him. He actually _whimpers_ , and Lew’s desire burns even hotter. He sucks him deep, but pulls back before too long, because Dick will surely return to his senses in the morning light, and if Lew only gets one shot at this, he wants Dick to come inside him.

He stumbles up quickly, shedding the rest of his clothes and grabbing the jar of pomade from his overnight bag. Dick watches with lips parted, and he reaches for Lew when he clambers back onto the bed. Straddling Dick again, Lew coats his fingers and grasps Dick’s cock, greasing his straining flesh. Dick moans softly, eyes widening as Lew reaches back and pushes a slick finger inside himself. 

“I don’t want…” Dick trails off.

Lew is motionless, breath frozen. He struggles to get the words out. “We can stop.”

Dick shakes his head, pulling Lew down for a kiss. He murmurs against Lew’s lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Lew smiles and breathes again. “You won’t. Trust me.”

“I do.” Dick takes Lew’s face in his hands, kissing him again soundly. 

When Lew slides down onto his best friend’s cock, the feeling of fullness isn’t just in his ass, but in every pore. He takes his time, riding up and down slowly, watching the expressions of pleasure flit across Dick’s face. Lew is determined to make it the best Dick’s ever had. 

Dick may not have bedded many women, but before long, he’s thrusting up, fingers gripping Lew’s thighs. He gasps and pants, fair skin flushed. Lew’s seen Dick in just about every circumstance, but he’s never seen him like this. It’s beautiful in a way that makes his heart clench. He bears down, tightening around Dick, who opens his mouth and throws his head back, tremors seizing him as he comes.

It’s hot and wet deep inside Lew, dripping out of him, and he keeps expecting to wake up. “God. Yes, yes.”

He doesn’t want this to end, but he’s so hard, and Dick wraps his hand around Lew’s cock, stroking firmly. It doesn’t take long before the wave of pleasure breaks, and Lew shudders as he sprays Dick’s chest. 

Lew slides onto his side, their legs tangled. They’re both breathing hard, and he rubs Dick’s chest, spreading his own semen, trying to push it into Dick’s pores. He presses his face into Dick’s neck, afraid to meet his eyes. When Dick shifts, Lew tenses, waiting for the inevitable. 

But Dick doesn’t shove him away, or tell him it was a mistake. Instead he wraps his arms around Lew’s back, whispering muffled thanks into his messy hair. 

*

Lew wakes with a start. 

The sun is up, and Dick is long gone, the other side of the bed cold. The grief and loneliness that have been Lew’s companion for so long are ready and waiting in Dick’s absence. Lew gazes around the room for some sign, but the bathroom is empty and dark, and Dick’s overnight bag is gone. The only evidence of his ever being there is his water glass, half full and tepid. 

But his dog tags are still entwined with Lew’s on the side table, and then the door is opening. Dick walks in, his wet hair slicked back, casual shirt and slacks well pressed as always. A smile freezes on his face, and his brow furrows. He glances at the desk, pointing. “Nix, I left a note.” 

Oxygen expands into Lew’s lungs once more, and he smiles shakily as he sits up. The piece of paper lies flat on the polished oak surface. He tries to laugh off his foolishness. “You found the Olympic-size swimming pool, huh?”

“Uh-huh. There’s an archery range up there too.” 

Dick hangs up his trunks in the bathroom, and Lew spots the overnight bag by the sink. When Dick sits on the side of the bed near where Lew is still tangled in the sheets, he places his warm palm on Lew’s forearm. 

“I wouldn’t just leave like that.”

“I know. I know you’d say goodbye first.” He swallows thickly and runs a hand through his mussed hair. “How do you feel?”

Dick’s grip is steady and firm. A smile plays on his lips. “New.” He moves his hand down to Lew’s thigh, fingertips light. 

The knot in Lew’s gut evaporates as if it was never there. “Good swim?”

“Yeah. Not as cold as Austria, but not quite as warm as home. Near the farm, I mean. We called it Little Lake. In the summer it was just cool enough to be refreshing, but you could paddle around all day.”

Lew grins. “I bet you did, too. Born part fish, I think.”

“There’s something about the water. I always said I’d build my house on Little Lake one day, so I could wake up and see that clear water.”

Lew takes a deep breath and blows it out. If he’s dreaming, he never wants to wake. “Sounds nice.”

Dick leans forward and kisses Lew all of a sudden, like a kid taking a dare before he can lose his nerve. The kiss is sweet and simple, and Lew breathes him in. Then Dick gets on top of him, neatly pressed clothing and all. His eyes are bright as he settles between Lew’s legs. 

“I’ll take you there.”

_fin_


End file.
